“I Will Never Regret You”

“A hero is a person or character who is admired for their courage, achievements, noble qualities, who looks fear in the eyes and doesn’t even blink.”

That is the quote I saw on the wall of my sixth grade students classroom today. I strongly disagree.

All humans have hesitated. It’s instinct. It’s vital. It’s as strong as your heart beating. It is the culmination of thousands of years of survival. Hesitation is a universal experience.

Therefore, a hero always “blinks.” That ‘blink’ is the moment that human beings realize what they are doing. That singular defining moment that changes the gravity of the situation. The exact second that the given circumstances could produce a hero if the right choices are made.

Humans program robots. Robots don’t blink. If a robot were to walk through a path of throwing knives without blinking, would it be a hero? No, of course not. But by the first definition, they technically would be. The reasoning as to why they aren’t? Because the robot faces no repercussions. The robot has no risk. The robot has no real understanding of the danger, nor have they been forced to confront the facts of what they are up against.

That's where we come to our hero blinking. In order to be a hero, you must blink. You must have a moment to see the horrors that all logic would tell to run. Because it’s in that blink that the hero confronts the danger they put themselves in, and pushes forth anyways. That is what makes a hero. To have that shackling sensation of hesitation, and where most others would turn back, they trailblaze on. They trailblaze on anyway.

So here I propose a new definition:

“A hero is a person or character who is admired for their courage, achievements, and noble qualities, who looks fear in the eyes, blinks, and despite facing the world’s darkness, chooses to continue being the world’s light.”

There’s a statue of you in the gardens of my mind.

“You are the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”

“i dream for the day you give me your heart, because i will hold it closer than i hold my own.”

- abby

…

second 🌕

sixth

fourteenth 🌕

thirtieth

LOVE, DEAR ABBY

“i gave the clothes off my back, just for you to stab me.”

- abby

the collection

june

july

august

september

october

november

december

tip: every time you write a letter to someone you hate, end it with “yours not yours, ____” just to really make your point.

GREY.

How the worlds gone grey,

all the colors left.

I hear that you’re ok.

Don’t you have any regrets?

All the struggles,

All the pain,

All the time I wasn’t ok.

All the years,

All the hurt,

All the times I wished I wasn’t yours.

I stopped going to therapy,

not because I thought I’d manage;

I didn’t go because it’s not fair,

For me to pay the repairs of your damage.

You got off Scott-free,

and I’m not at all shocked,

but I know it’s not me…

It was you who caused,

This slow motion car crash.

All these years later, I still have

the bruises and the whiplash,

but you don’t have a scratch.

I replay it frame by frame,

Incinerated in my brain,

So I could forever torture myself

Asking myself again,

What did I do wrong?

Was it me?

Did I ask too much?

What did you need?

What could I have done,

differently?

Or even worse,

was it you and not me?

LOVE, DEAR ABBY

“I stand outside looking at the moon, thinking of you somewhere also bathed in its light.”